


Nocturne in B-Flat Minor, Op. 9 No. 1

by pastandfuturequeen



Series: 15 Days of FinnPoe [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bottom Finn, Cat BB8, Glasses Finn, M/M, Modern AU, Neighbors AU, Pianist Finn, Pining, Professor Poe, poor attempts at flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastandfuturequeen/pseuds/pastandfuturequeen
Summary: The sound is a mounting tempest. It rages and rises with the precise control of lightning, and it sweeps him up within it’s waves. The notes carry on, an inevitability to them and a bold declaration in their midst that Poe can only hope to discern.Or, alternatively - Finn is a pianist who moves into the apartment above Poe. They are in a literal gay rom com.15 Days of FinnPoe: Day 11





	Nocturne in B-Flat Minor, Op. 9 No. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, there is smut in this fic. If smut isn't your thing, then just stop reading right before the little "--" and don't read the section that starts with "Finn's mouth". Also, a special thank you to my good friend and soulmate J who helped me beta this fic! Thank you my love <3
> 
> -
> 
> _On the eleventh day of FinnPoe, my true love gave to me . . . eleven pianos playing!_
> 
> [[Also Posted on Tumblr]](https://pastandfuturequeen.tumblr.com/post/168931952605/15-days-of-finnpoe-day-11)

The day is cold, the bite of winter air sharp and piercing even through the multiple layers on Poe’s body. He quickly climbs the stairs of his apartment complex despite the exhaustion that pulls at his body, cursing the slowness of the elevator in the lobby. The cat treats from the store swing in his grip, bouncing slightly against his leg. Finally, he reaches his floor.

There’s a curse from his left, and Poe looks over, drawn in by the sound. There’s a man standing at the foot of the stairs, letting go of a box with a grunt. Poe steps closer to the man, a concerned expression on his face. “Need any help?” he asks.

The man blows a breath. There’s a couple of beads of sweat on his brow and he swipes them away as he looks at Poe. “Actually, yeah. I’ve just moved into the floor upstairs. Mind helping me carry this up?” His gaze is kind, and Poe shoots him a friendly smile.

“Yeah, of course.” Poe quickly places the cat treats inside his sweatshirt pocket and steps next him. “Here,” Poe says, squatting down to grab a hold of the bottom of the box. “You grab it from the other end, we’ll be able to lift it that way.” The man nods and mirrors Poe’s position on the other end of the box. They lock eyes over the top, quick understanding coursing between them. “And up!” Poe says, using his legs to lift. It’s heavier than he expects and he grunts, but his grip is firm.

“You good?” the man asks.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Poe replies. Then with a slight grunt they climb up the rest of the stairs, the box heavy between them. At last they reach the top, and Poe looks around. “Where to?” he asks the man. His arms are starting to feel the strain of the weight, though he can hold out for more time yet.

“Just a couple doors down - number 418.”

The two walk slowly towards the door, the man freeing one hand to quickly open the door and they walk a couple steps into the apartment and into the living room. They set down the box on the hardwood floor with a soft grunt. Poe straightens and lets out a breath. “There we go. It’s a wonder how you were able to lift this up those last few flights of stairs in the first place,” he says, brushing his hands against his thighs. “Do you have any more boxes to bring up?”

“No, that was the last one. Thanks,” the man replies, shooting Poe a kind smile. “Here, let me get you some water or something for your help,” he says, turning to the kitchen. “Do you drink root beer? I think I might have some hanging around.”

“Yeah I do, thank you - but you don’t have to,” Poe says.

The man shoots him a kind smile. “I insist.”

Poe finds himself unable to deny that smile. “Alright.”

“I’ll be right back.” The man turns the corner to the kitchen, leaving Poe in the living room. He glances around curiously at his surroundings. There is a sofa pressed against the wall and a large bookshelf next to it, and the rest of the apartment is littered with other unpacked cardboard boxes. In the corner of the room is a living room grand piano, the black lacquer well maintained and freshly polished. It is the last piece that interests him and he steps towards it, eyes flitting curiously over the keys.

“Do you play?”

Poe turns around at the sound of the voice. The man stands a handful of paces away, two cans of root beer in hand. He walks over and hands one to Poe. “Thanks,” Poe says. “And no, I don’t - I just listen more than anything,” His mind immediately turns to the countless albums downloaded on his phone. Most of them are from the same pianist, but that’s just a matter of preference rather than snobbery.

The man hums. There’s a curious look in his eye, an openness that Poe finds ridiculously attractive. Poe clears his throat. “Sorry, I’ll let you get back to unpacking.”

The man seems to shake himself out of a stupor, shooting Poe a disarmingly beautiful smile. “Thanks so much for your help, uh . . .”

“Poe,” he offers, extending a hand. “Poe Dameron.”

The man takes his hand and shakes it. His palm is soft, Poe notes, the touch delicate. “I’m Finn. Nice to meet you, Poe.”

“Nice to meet you too, Finn.” Poe takes his hand back and drags his teeth across his bottom lip. Then he glances at the door, not wishing to overstay his welcome. “I’m a floor below you so uh - I guess I’ll see you around.”

Finn’s smile is kind. “See you around, Poe.”

-

Soft piano music floats through the air of the apartment, the notes clear and distinct without a single mark of hesitation. It’s a sorrowful song, one rising and gliding with the beat of falling rain. Poe hums in time with the sound, his hands busy as he cooks dinner. He’s changed from his work clothes into a soft black shirt and sweatpants, and there’s exhaustion on his brow from a long day, the lines soothed some now that he’s arrived home.

An orange tabby rubs against his legs, and Poe looks down, pausing in his humming. “Hey, buddy,” Poe says, setting aside the knife he holds to pick up his cat, scratching the spot behind their ears gently. BB8 purrs against Poe’s touch, and Poe smiles. “Where’ve you been all day?” he asks, setting the cat down on a nearby counter. BB8 sits still on the counter, swinging their tail slowly back and forth. They let out a loud “meow,” and Poe hums in understanding. “Did you go over to Mrs. Monterrey’s apartment to play with the other cats? That’s nice. I’m sorry I got home late tonight, I got caught up for too long at work.” The tabby meows again, the sound sympathetic. Poe turns back to his cooking, carefully placing the onions on the hot pan to caramelize.

The piano continues to play in the background and Poe hums contently. The sound is a mounting tempest. It rages and rises with the precise control of lightning, and it sweeps him up within it’s waves. The notes carry on, an inevitability to them and a bold declaration in their midst that Poe can only hope to discern. He finishes cooking the rest of his dinner in silence, BB8 watching him carefully. Poe cuts off part of his cooked chicken breast, and sets it on BB8’s bowl next to the usual cat food and water. The cat dives towards the floor, setting to eat their dinner with a grateful meow. Poe chuckles and sits down at the table to eat his own dinner with a content sigh. Slowly, he feels the tension from his earlier migraine start to fade away, soothed by the sounds of the piano. The song ends after a time, replaced with another piano sonata, this one quieter than the last. The scene is calm, a soft wind down from an otherwise hectic day.

As he cleans up his dinner Poe’s phone rings. He picks up the phone and presses the call to his ear. “Hello?” Poe says into the phone.

“Hey, Poe,” a man’s voice says over the line. The line is followed by a quick cough.

Poe feels a smile overcome his features. “Hey, Snap,” he says, stepping out of his kitchen and into his living room. He approaches the speaker system and turns it off with a soft click, effectively cutting off the music that had previously overcome the apartment.

Snap’s voice is teasing. “Still listening to that classical stuff? Should I call Leia and announce your early retirement?”

Poe snorts. “You’re one to talk about music taste. Have you forgotten your disco phase already?”

“Disco is gonna come back as a genre, and the sooner you accept it, the better-” the last word is caught at the end of a wheeze, and Poe can hear the violent cough that wracks his friend’s lungs from the other end of the line.

Poe’s brows furrow in concern. “Hey, you doing alright, Snap?”

“Yeah, that’s what I called to talk to you about,” Snap says, clearing his throat. “I caught Kare’s cold this morning. Both of us have been bedridden all day, so we’re gonna have to cancel lunch tomorrow.”

Poe hums understandingly. “Yes, yes, of course,” he says. “We can grab lunch next weekend. Do you or Kare need me to stop by, grab anything from the store?”

“No it’s fine, we’re good,” Snap’s words are interrupted by another series of coughs, and Poe winces in sympathy. Snap takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says, voice strained. “We’re fine, just need to stay in bed for a few more days.”

“Alright,” Poe says, tapping a finger against his leg. “Hope you get better soon, alright pal?”

“Yeah Poe. Talk to you soon.”

And with that they hang up, leaving Poe to hum to himself. BB8 appears at his side, head tilted curiously. Poe kneels down to the cat’s eye level, reaching out to scratch behind their ears. “Looks like you and I are gonna have more time tomorrow than expected.” BB8 meows contently, followed by a series of soft grunting sounds. Poe nods. “Yes, I know I gotta get more groceries from the store. It’s my day off tomorrow, I can buy some then.” The tabby’s ears peak up in interest before scampering off from Poe’s touch, in search of more interesting things. Poe grunts and straightens, off to finish off his night routine and head to bed.

As he lays in bed that night, Poe pulls his laptop towards him and pulls up the website he has long since memorized by heart. The screen is bright against the darkness of his room and Poe grunts slightly at the change in lighting. He quickly navigates the page, hoping against hope that there’s a seat left. Two words stare back at him, a quiet taunt: _Sold Out._ Poe sighs and sets the laptop aside, disappointment settling in his chest.

He knows the piano concert is sold out - has been sold out for months, ever since the concert was announced. Nonetheless, Poe keeps holding out hope that a seat will open up at any day now. He knows that Skywalker is a world renowned pianist, and that the chances of Poe being able to see a concert in person are slim to none, but nonetheless, Poe hopes. The sounds of the keys and the piano flit across Poe’s mind, the songs from the album he’s purchased already memorized and taunting him with their precise melody.

With another sigh, Poe settles further into his bed and falls asleep.

-

Poe climbs up the stairs slowly, arms loaded with groceries. He hums beneath his breath, a particular song taking hold of his thoughts and refusing to let go. He enters the apartment and kicks the door closed behind him, toeing off his shoes and placing them by the door before he steps further in.

“Hey BB8,” he calls into the apartment. The orange tabby doesn’t make an appearance, and Poe isn’t surprised. His cat comes and goes as they please, no matter what Poe says or how many windows he shuts. Poe heads into the kitchen and places his groceries on the table with a slight grunt. He heads to the window then, opening it just a crack to let BB8 enter when they’re ready.

He continues humming as he sorts through his groceries, placing them quickly where they belong. There’s another tune that joins him, breaking Poe away from his task for a moment. He stills in the middle of his kitchen, ears straining for the sound. There’s a pause. For a moment he starts to wonder if perhaps it was imagination. But then the sound returns again, a soft string of notes released. They’re joined by a couple more, and then Poe recognizes the sound. It’s piano music.

The notes are soft, playful and growing only louder the closer Poe pays attention to them. Immediately his mind turns Finn, and to the kind smile and polished piano surface. He smiles to himself and continues his routine. The music only swells and flutters around him, infectious in its joy. Poe feels himself start to sway in time with the music, and it’s different than the one he usually listens to. 

Skywalker’s music is dynamic and grand and all encompassing. This music on the other hand is warm, inviting. Vulnerable in a way that the first doesn’t allow itself to be. Poe is drawn to it, settling himself in for the ride. Slowly, surely, the music slows and stops. Poe waits with bated breath for the music to return. Eventually it does, bringing with it an entirely different tune. But the feeling Poe receives from the songs is the same. The music floats through the apartment well past the afternoon.

-

Poe leaves early the next morning for work, closing and locking the door behind him before heading towards the stairs. He hopes at least to beat the chill. A friendly face greets him when he arrives, reaching the end of the stairs just as he approaches. “Hey Poe,” Finn greets, shooting him a quick smile. He’s wearing sweatpants and running shoes, phone and earbuds in hand.

Poe feels his heart beat harder at the sight of the other man, and he can’t help the warm smile that spreads across his face. “Hey Finn,” he replies, joining him as they head down the rest of the stairs.

“Guess I’m not the only one up this early,” Finn says. “Headed to work?”

“Yeah,” Poe replies, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve got a class today at nine - I’m a professor at the university.”

Finn hums in response. “Do you like it?”

“A bit, yeah. I mean teaching in the early morning means I’m usually home earlier, office hours aside.” Poe’s mind flits back to the day before and the soft music he had heard. “Hey, I wanted to ask - was that you playing the piano yesterday afternoon?”

Finn’s face grows warm, his expression sheepish. “Yeah, that was. Sorry, I thought that most people would be at work. Was it too loud?”

“No not at all!” Poe quickly assures. “Yesterday was my day off, which is why I was home and was able to listen. It was great, actually. I really liked it.” They’re at the bottom of the stairs now, lingering.

Finn’s answering smile is shy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Poe drags his teeth across his bottom lip, and he sees Finn’s eyes dart towards his mouth before going back up again and feels his chest warm. “I uh - I don’t mind it at all, actually.” Their eyes meet. Poe swallows, trying to keep his voice casual. “Will you be playing again later?”

Finn smiles slowly, the expression blooming across his face. “Yeah. I will.”

Poe nods slowly, mesmerized by the look on Finn’s face. He feels his own face warm at the sight. “Great - I look forward do it.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. They linger for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them. “I’ll let you go to work, then,” Finn says, clearing his throat.

Poe’s voice is soft. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

-

By the time Poe comes home, the piano is already playing from up the stairs. The song is bright, vibrant, never stopping once to take a breath. The sound brings a smile to Poe’s face. He feels his head nod along to the song, closing the door behind him and feeling the tiredness leave his limbs. After a moment’s consideration he recognizes the song as jazz. Poe wiggles off his coat and hangs it up by the door along with his shoulder bag and his shoes.

Poe sways in time with the music as he enters further into his apartment. The song reminds him of a dark room and a small stage, the warm light reflecting off of the colorful glass of a bar and against a resting saxophone. There’s a playfulness to the music, as if wanting to hold Poe close and invite him in. His mind wanders to Finn’s face and he imagines a smile there, imagines teasing fingers flying over the keys. Poe walks into the kitchen with a grin.

-

The room is quiet, lit only by the soft light of a nearby lamp. Poe is hunched over the desk, staring down at the book in front of him. He turns the page carefully, the paper delicate from it’s time in the university archives. Poe mutters under his breath, peering closer at the small script. He is so enraptured in the work that he does not notice how much time has passed until the sky turns dark and his eyes have grown weary of the strain. Poe leans back in his chair and rubs at his eyes, resting them for a moment. He glances at the clock and groans. It is late, far later than he’d like to be holed up in his office on a Thursday night.

Poe makes a note to himself of where he had left off and stuffs the book carefully into his shoulder bag, collecting his coat and heading towards the door. The night air is crisp around him and he wraps his coat more securely around himself. The walk from his office to his car is a short one, but nevertheless he hurries in and turns the engine on, welcoming the heat gladly. His phone connects to the audio automatically and piano starts to play over the speakers, a continuation of the song Poe was listening to on his way to work that morning.

The song is one of Skywalker’s, a hollow melody that reminds him of a the eye of a storm. It’s an intense song that takes his breath away, but tonight he turns the volume down low. Poe breathes out a sigh in the silence. His mind turns to other songs, other strokes of piano keys. His mind turns to Finn.

Finn and Poe have developed over the past couple of weeks what Poe would call a tentative friendship. They see each other on most mornings, Finn dressed in his usual jogging clothes and Poe headed to work. Finn’s smile is always bright, and they exchange quick words and what Poe hopes to be subtle attempts at flirtation from his end. They see each other less often in the afternoons, sometimes a quick greeting in passing as they arrive home. Yet the constant between them is the soft press of Finn’s piano. The piano isn’t played every night, and sometimes Poe is so caught up in his work or stays out so late that he does not get a chance to listen. But the sounds from the apartment above him greet him more often than not with a delicacy and tenderness that wraps itself around Poe and creeps into the crevices of his skin. He tells Finn about the greatness of his music and he loves the way Finn’s face lights up at the praise, the way his smile blooms across his face and takes his breath away. In light of that, Skywalker pales in comparison.

-

Poe stands over the stove at his kitchen, stirring the pasta in the pot carefully so it won’t stick to the bottom. He hums as the pasta cooks, realizing more and more with each passing minute that he has just cooked far too much pasta to eat in one night. His phone is pressed to his ear, Snap’s voice loud on the line. “So you still haven’t asked him out?”

“It’s not that simple, Snap,” Poe says.

“Yes it is!” Snap replies. His cough is gone now, all traces of sickness since left him. “How many times did you tell me when I was crushing on Kare that I just had to go for it? Look how that turned out.”

“Yeah? And exactly how many times did you _ignore_ what I said?”

“This is different,” Snap says dismissively. “Your neighbor - Finn - you say he laughs at your jokes. He seems to like history, he’s incredibly friendly, and he even has your same taste in music. You’re living a gay rom com and you know it.”

Poe laughs. “I have to wait for the right moment. I mean what do I say?”

“You say,” Snap clears his throat, voice scratchy in a poor imitation of Poe’s voice. “‘I’m Poe Dameron. You play piano like a god and have dreamy eyes. Do you wanna go out with me?’”

Poe snorts. “That’ll work.”

“It definitely will,” Snap assures.

“So are we still on for tomorrow?” Poe asks, switching the topic.

His friend hums from the other end of the line, but allows the switch without contest. “Yeah, definitely. We’ll see you at the usual place?”

“Definitely,” Poe replies. “Alright I’m gonna eat dinner for the night and head to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Snap says goodbye and hangs up. Poe sets the phone down on the countertop, shaking his head slightly. Then he sets to work on draining the pasta and putting it in another pan, adding the homemade sauce slowly and letting it simmer. Spaghetti is a simple meal, an easy meal, but it’s enough to fill Poe’s stomach for the night. He looks around at the rest of the apartment, wondering for a moment where BB8 is. The orange tabby does make it a habit to come and go as they please, but they have never been gone for so long.

There’s a knock on the door that distracts him from his thoughts. Poe glances at the clock again. He doesn’t expect anyone at this hour. He turns the heat on low and uses a spare towel to dry his hands, approaching the door slowly and peering through the peephole. A familiar face is standing outside his door, wearing soft pj’s and with something in his hands. Poe all but rips the door open, a smile blooming over his face. “Finn,” he greets, only slightly breathless. “Hi! What’re you doing here?”

Finn offers him a soft smile. “Sorry to bother you, but is this little guy yours?” He holds BB8 in his arms, the orange tabby wagging their tail contently.

“BB8, buddy,” Poe says, taking the tabby into his arms. “I was wondering where you were.”

“I walked into the kitchen to grab some dinner and saw them standing in front of my fridle,” Finn says, bring Poe’s attention back to him. “Scared me for a moment before I realized the cat burglar was only a literal cat.”

Poe huffs a quiet laugh, offering Finn an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. They have a way of sneaking into places they don’t belong.” BB8 meows then as if in retaliation. Poe raises his brow with a disbelieving huff, and he raises his gaze to see Finn smiling in mirth. “Anyways, thanks for bringing him.”

“Of course,” Finn replies, pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose with a shy smile.

Poe remembers the words Snap said to him some minutes ago. He takes a breath, deciding for once to throw all caution to the wind. “Would you like to come in for dinner?” Finn’s face is surprised, so Poe continues, “You um - you mentioned having found BB8 in your kitchen because you wanted to grab something. I accidentally cooked too much spaghetti to finish by myself. It’s not gourmet or anything, but I have enough for two, if you want.” Poe holds his breath. His heart beats sharply in his chest, nerves settling in his belly to coil and twist and turn.

Then to his relief Finn smiles at him, soft and bright. “Yeah, that’d be great. If you don’t mind.”

Poe shakes his head and steps aside. “Come on in.” Finn enters the apartment and Poe closes the door behind him. BB8 climbs down from his arms and scurries somewhere into the apartment, leaving only Finn and Poe to linger by the door. Poe runs a hand over his stubbled jaw, wishing for a moment that he had the foresight to shave or dress differently for the occasion. “Here,” he says, guiding Finn into the apartment. “Take a seat and I’ll bring dinner right out.” Then Poe heads into the kitchen and leans over the sink, blowing a breath. Finn is in his apartment and having dinner with him. Poe is a grown man, he knows this does not technically count as a date. Yet nonetheless, the joy of having Finn’s company is enough to push him forward and make sure the pasta doesn’t burn.

Dinner is a pleasant affair, conversation flowing easily and laughter even easier. Soon Poe’s nerves leave him, replaced with warmth from head to toe. The more Finn talks the more Poe continues to be enraptured by him, by the way his face transforms as he gets caught up in retelling a story, the way his lips curve up into a smile and he looks at Poe from over the top of his glass. After they’re both done eating Poe offers to take Finn’s plate. “No here, let me help you wash up,” Finn replies. His smile is warm. “It’s the least I can do for dinner.”

That’s how they end up standing side by side on the sink, Finn washing while Poe dries and puts the plates away. Poe laughs, the sound startled out of him. Finn is grinning, not far from laughter himself. “ _What?_ ” Poe says incredulously.

“I think Lang Lang is a pretentious shit head,” Finn repeats. “It’s one thing to be carried by the music, but I can’t stand to look at his face for more than ten seconds when he performs just because of all those facial expressions.”

“To be fair, I’ve only ever listened to the music, never watched a performance,” Poe says, putting a plate away where it belongs.

Finn’s face twists in distaste. “Good. I don’t recommend it.” Poe chuckles again, and Finn shoots him a grin. “But that’s my taste.” He flicks a soap bubble in Poe’s direction, the movement playful and his eyes replaced with mirth. His eyes flick up and down Poe’s form, the look brief but making Poe’s body warm all the same. “What about you? What pianists do you listen to?”

Poe hums for a moment, turning around to set a cup away. “Honestly, before listening to you I used to listen to a lot of stuff by Skywalker. Have you heard of him?”

There’s a cough behind him. Poe turns around, a concerned expression on his face. There’s a strange look on Finn’s face, cheeks growing warm. Finn clears his throat. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” he says after a moment.

“You don’t like him either?” Poe asks, leaning against the sink as he picks up and dries the last dish.

“It’s not about what I think,” Finn replies, staring into Poe’s face. “What do you think?”

Poe hums for a moment. “I used to listen to him a lot,” he begins. “I think he’s good - great, actually. The notes are clean and precise and with each piece it’s as if he’s telling a story and sweeping me up in it. That’s not something a lot of pianists can do.”

Finn’s voice is soft, leading. “. . . But?”

Poe shrugs. “I dunno. I really like Skywalker - I’ve actually been trying to get tickets to the show this weekend for months now - but I just wish they’d open up a bit more. Make it more personal.” He turns to Finn, a smile on his face. “But that’s just what I think,” he says softly. Their eyes meet then, soft brown meeting brown. Finn’s gaze is the kind of quiet intensity of a tropical storm, of a wave rising higher and higher, seeping into Poe’s skin. Their bodies are close now, so close. Poe wonders how they’ve gotten so close in the first place. His gaze flicks down to Finn’s mouth, the tension in his stomach coiling tight as a spring.

Finn speaks then, his voice quiet. “I uh,” he licks his lips, drawing Poe’s gaze to it. “I’ve actually got a spare ticket to the show this weekend,” he says softly. “Do you wanna go?”

Poe feels his breath escape his body, and he’s breathless from Finn’s proximity. “What?” he says, shocked. “How in the world did you get tickets?”

“I know some people,” Finn answers dismissively. He clears his throat. “Point being - do you want to go? With me?” The question is stated nervously, as if Finn wonders for any moment where Poe is going to say no.

Poe’s face breaks out into a smile. “Of course.”

-

The concert hall is packed. Poe wears a suit and he runs a hand over the fabric, attempting to will away invisible wrinkles. His hair is styled for the occasion, and he feels his entire body warm with nerves. He glances down at the phone in his hand, staring down at the text in question. 

_Finn: Sorry I’m running late. Got caught up with work. Just take a seat and I’ll be there before you know it._

Poe blows a breath as he’s led to his seat. Somehow, Finn was able to secure tickets in the third row from the front, in clear view of the stage. He feels nerves start to mount in his chest next to curiosity. “How in the world did he get these,” Poe mutters to himself as he’s seated. There are men and women to his sides and around him dressed in such fine clothes he feels spectacularly underdressed. Poe drums his fingers on his thigh, glancing every so often towards the entrance for any sign of Finn.

But all too soon the curtain rises, and the auditorium quiets. There is a spotlight bright on the stage, revealing a sleek grand piano at the center, the black lacquer shining bright under the light. The people around Poe are hush, waiting with bated breath for what’s next to come. He feels himself drawn in.

A man steps out onto the stage, strides controlled and confident. He walks to the piano, the spotlight on him as he turns to face the audience and gives a low bow. As he comes up, their eyes meet. Poe feels his mouth part open in slight shock. Finn shoots him the ghost of a smile, his gaze kind and amused and a million things at once that Poe cannot help to discern. Then Finn breaks their eye contact and takes a seat at the piano. He adjusts the jacket of his fine suit and settles his hands delicately over the keys. Then with a breath, he begins to play.

The sound is soft, tender. It rings like a ripple through the quiet concert hall, simple in its elegance. Then more notes mount atop it, each one precise and controlled just as what has come expected of the Skywalker name. Yet as Finn continues to play, Poe hears a slight shift. The music starts to transform, softly, quietly, almost so subtly that he misses it. The sound spreads slowly, travels over their bodies, so tender that Poe is afraid it might break. It is the sound of hope, of love, admiration, and tenderness. It is personal in a way that the Skywalker music has not ever been before, but just as much as Poe knows Finn’s music to be.

Poe feels his breath leave his body, enraptured by the sound and sight of Finn at the piano. Finn’s eyes are focused on the music and there’s a smile on his face. He plays with the sweet abandon that comes with being so overcome with the music that it’s as if it’s become a part of him, an extension of his fingers all the way to his soul. It is a mesmerizing sight. The music climbs and flows, and it presses against Poe. It wraps itself carefully around him, softly, tenderly, as if wondering for his response. And Poe wishes he can tell the music not to worry, because he knows his answer.

Then all too soon the music stops, the silence deaf on the ground. Then Poe claps, and the concert hall is enraptured in thunderous applause. Finn glances towards the audience, a smile over his face. Their eyes meet again and Poe nods at Finn, hoping that his face can explain all that he wishes to tell. Judging from Finn’s face, he does.

\--

Finn’s mouth is hot on Poe’s, their tongues sliding together wetly. Poe’s hands are at Finn’s waist, pulling at the crisp button up shirt and wrinkling it between his hands. They’re pressed against the door of the apartment, and Finn is all around Poe, in his mouth, his ears, his hands - but there’s so many layers between their skin. Too many layers. Poe grunts impatiently and pulls away for a moment. “Take this off,” he says, voice rough.

Finn lets out a breathless sigh, hastily unbuttoning his shirt with impatient fingers. Poe’s focus narrows in on those fingers, at the way they deftly move across the small buttons, a sharp contrast to the way they dance over the keys of a piano, soft and butterfly-like. Finally, the shirt is open, revealing with it the soft expanse of skin of Finn’s chest. Poe dives forward, pressing his hands against the soft skin and peppering hot kisses against Finn’s exposed throat. Finn throws his head back with a moan, quickly shrugging off both his suit jacket and his shirt until the expensive fabric crumples to the ground. Poe wonders briefly whether it’s fine to let such fine fabric wrinkle, but his mind is soon occupied by other things, like the feel of Finn’s hands in his hair, the sounds Finn makes at the press of Poe’s tongue against his throat.

It feels as if everything has been leading up until this moment ever since they met all those weeks ago. The piano music, the morning flirting, the dinner, that night’s performance - everything has been leading up to this one moment, as inevitable as the crash of a wave against the sand. Poe pushes Finn backwards into the apartment, only mildly aware of the way they’re going. Finn takes the lead then, expertly maneuvering them through the hallway and into the living room. They don’t make it much further than that though until they’re resting against something, and the sound of multiple piano keys burst through the sounds of their kisses, startling them both. Poe looks around wildly, searching for the source of the sound. Finn starts to shake in his arms and Poe looks down, concerned.

Finn looks up at him and his face is split into a wide smile, head inclined forward in silent laughter. Finn takes a breath and the laughter grows louder, and he’s giddy with it, the sound infectious until Poe is joining in as well. They rest their foreheads together and laugh at the ridiculousness of their situation, and they laugh at the fact that they are, in fact, resting against Finn’s piano out of literally every other piece of furniture in Finn’s apartment. When Poe comes up for air he spots Finn’s face, and there are tears in his eyes from laughter, and there’s so much joy and softness in his expression that Poe can do little more than press his lips against Finn’s own.

Then he wraps his hands carefully around Finn’s thick thighs, hoisting him up until Finn now sits atop the piano, a sharp intake of breath escaping his lips. Poe presses forward, and Finn leans back, his hands letting go of Poe’s curls to rest against the piano surface. Poe breaks the kiss and steps back to take a look at the man before him. Finn is breathing hard, his face is flushed with pleasure. His hands rest behind him, supporting his torso and putting himself on display for Poe. Finn’s legs are spread obscenely wide as they hang from the edge of the piano’s surface, and a quick glance downwards makes Poe groan - the sight of Finn’s arousal pressing against the tight fabric of his pants, coupled with the way that Finn is looking at him, almost makes Poe come undone right then and there. Poe makes quick work of his own clothes, shoving them away without grace or finesse. Finn watches him with a lustful look in his eyes, and it’s not long before Poe is atop him again, his hands sliding across the soft thickness of Finn’s torso. Finn moans as Poe presses his mouth on his neck again, trailing kisses down, down, down.

Poe unbuttons Finn’s pants quickly, a tad too sharply, and Finn lifts his hips off the cool press of the piano, helping Poe strip him of his pants with a slightly impatient sound. Finn’s voice is breathless. “Please tell me you’ve got a condom and some lube on you,” he says.

Poe grins and holds up two thin foil packets for Finn to see. Finn raises his brows at the sight, turning to look at Poe with an amused smile. Poe’s expression is sheepish, and there’s a redness creeping up on his cheeks that has nothing to do with lust and all to do with embarrassment. “I didn’t assume that - I just wanted to be - prepared?” he says, words tripping over each other.

Finn throws his head back in a laugh. When he comes back up he takes Poe’s face in his hands, loving the drag of stubble against his skin. “We can talk about this later. Right now though, I want you to hurry up and fuck me senseless.”

A rush of arousal floods through Poe’s veins, and he grins, quick to comply. The small foil packet is easy enough to break, and he slips the condom on slowly, properly. Finn makes an impatient noise as Poe places lube in his hand, warming it up between his fingers and pressing against Finn’s entrance. Finn raises his legs up, and the press of Poe’s first finger is glorious, bringing him sweet relief. He’s relaxed, and the first finger is quickly and easily joined by a second. Poe works Finn open, testing to see how much more he can stretch Finn to prepare him. Finn hisses impatiently. “Dammit, Poe,” he says. “Please just fuck me.”

Poe huffs out a laugh, retreating his fingers with a hum. He grabs Finn my the torso, pulling him closer to the edge of the piano surface. Slowly but surely, he sheathes himself inside Finn, drawing a sweet groan from their mouths. He thrusts slowly into Finn, a slow grind that draws pleased gasps from Finn beneath him. “Poe,” Finn gasps, the sound a beautiful note in Poe’s ears. “Poe, please,”

“What is it? Tell me what you want, Finn,” Poe says, voice soft as he continues his slow grind.

Finn’s eyebrows furrow and he groans. “Please, just - harder, Poe, please.”

And Poe is all too eager to comply. His thrusts turn hard and fast, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Finn’s torso to get leverage. Finn gasps, his mouth open into a beautiful ‘o’ and he continues speaking, his voice nothing more than a constant gasp of “God, yes, yesyesyes Poe please - oh, please!” Finn’s voice grows louder the harder Poe thrusts, losing himself in pleasure. Poe sets himself to continue making those noises coming from Finn’s mouth, chasing that high with an increased vigor. Finn is so beautiful under him - skin glistening with sweat, back arched into a beautiful bow, hands clasping at the air in desperation. Poe moans at the sight, reaching down with a hand to stroke Finn’s dick, spreading the precome over the tip and pumping it in time with his own thrusts. Finn practically sobs at the attention, squirming and moaning loudly beneath Poe.

Poe grunts, slowing his thrusts and then stopping altogether. Finn lets out a soft cry beneath him. “Turn over,” Poe says. His voice is rough, thick with lust and leaving no room for argument. Finn groans but quickly complies, Poe slipping out of him with a hiss from them both. Then Finn is bent over the piano, his whole torso on the cool surface and his ass raised tauntingly in the air. Poe grabs two handfuls of that thick ass, kneading it roughly in his grip as he falls to his knees.

Finn turns to look at him then, and their eyes meet. His face is flushed with arousal, pupils dilated so much there is little more than a thin sliver of brown around them. Poe presses a light kiss against Finn’s ass, delicate, chaste, and a harsh contrast to the press of his hands. Poe breathes out a soft sigh, letting his warm breath press teasingly against Finn’s hole. “Fuck,” Finn groans, brows knitting together in desperation. “Poe, please,” he breathes, and his ass is shaking now, desperate with want. “Poe, I swear to you if you don’t skip the foreplay and eat me out right now you’re never coming to a concert ever again.” Poe throws his head back in a laugh. 

Then without any delay he presses his tongue to Finn’s hole and he can feel the way Finn’s whole body shivers in pleasure, can hear Finn’s answering gasp. Poe groans deep in his throat, his dick twitching at the sounds Finn makes. He sets to work on Finn’s ass, his tongue lapping and curling. He can taste the lube but he doesn’t care, only cares about the feel of Finn’s soft skin beneath his hands and his lips. Poe pulls away, drags his cheek against the plump flesh and nips at it, a quick press of his teeth. His lips cover the spot a moment later, soothing with his tongue. Finn lets out a curse, pressing his ass more firmly against Poe’s mouth. Then Poe’s lips are in him again, joined by the gentle press of two fingers pumping into him at a steady pace. Poe eats Finn’s ass like it is his last meal on earth, savoring every lick, every gasp, and every moan until he commits it to memory. Then Finn’s thighs quiver beneath his hand, and Finn chokes out a warning. “Poe.”

Poe slowly pulls his lips away from Finn’s ass, and Finn groans low in his throat. His hands run delicately over Finn’s thighs as he stands from his position on the floor. Poe presses soft kisses down the line of Finn’s back, chaste and making Finn shiver beneath him. Finn lets out a breath and braces himself on his hands, looking over his shoulder at Poe. There’s a pleased smile on his face, open and inviting, and Poe cannot help but answer back with a grin, the fact that he’s giving Finn so much pleasure making satisfaction and pride bloom in his chest. Finn clears his throat. “Yeah, that’s um,” he says, mumbling. “That’s good.”

Poe’s answering grin is teasing. “Only good?”

Finn shoots him a mock glare. “Well what do you want me to say?” laughter trace his words, and there’s a mirth to his gaze. “I can’t exactly-” his words are cut off by a moan when Poe takes Finn’s dick in hand, stroking it teasingly slow. There’s so much precome that Finn is slick with it, and Poe spreads it all over the length with each tantalizing pump. “Fuck me,” Finn swears.

“Well since you’re asking nicely.”

Finn shoots him another glare and Poe laughs, pressing a quick kiss to Finn’s shoulder in apology. Then he stops his ministrations on Finn’s dick, placing one hand on Finn’s hip while he uses the other to align with Finn’s ass. He barely restrains his moan. His dick is practically throbbing in lust, sensitive from lack of attention. Poe pushes in slowly, sheathing himself in Finn’s ass until their bodies are joined as one, and they both groan. Poe pumps steadily into Finn, both of his hands gripping Finn’s hips. Finn goes to his elbows atop the piano and pumps himself in time to Poe’s thrusts, his face twisted in pleasure. Poe is mesmerized by the sounds Finn makes, the way the sweat glistens off his black skin, the contrast between the flush of him and the cool piano surface, the way his back is arched so beautifully, taut as a string.

Poe fucks Finn harder now, their skin smacking with each thrust and Poe can no longer focus on rhythm as much, can only focus on the way Finn moans and groans beneath him. Finn’s thighs are quivering again, his gasps coming louder and Poe can see the way Finn’s hand is moving, pumping himself until at last Finn comes with a cry. Poe continues pumping into Finn’s ass, making sure to extend Finn’s orgasm as much as he can. And then Finn goes limp, letting out a sigh as he lies across the piano surface. Then Poe slips out of Finn and pumps himself to orgasm, the combination of his hand and the sounds Finn makes making him come with a low groan. Poe braces his arm on the edge of the piano, holding himself up while pleasure washes over him. 

His knees are weak, limbs heavy from his orgasm. When Poe opens his eyes again Finn has turned over and is smiling at him, face positively glowing from the high of his orgasm. Poe cannot help but place a kiss on Finn’s shoulder, regaining his footing to take Finn into his arms. They’re both sweaty and reek of sex, but Poe cannot bother himself enough to care. They bask together in the afterglow, twin smiles on their faces. After a time Poe hums pensively, the sound low in his chest. “So, about the whole ‘you’re actually Skywalker and need to personalize your music’ thing-”

Finn’s laugh is music to Poe’s ears.

**Author's Note:**

> **15 Days of FinnPoe Notes:**
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone! It's been a while.
> 
> So if y’all weren’t aware, I attempted to do a thing called 15 Days of FinnPoe, where I was going to release a fic once a day every day from December 1st to the 15th in honor of TLJ releasing in theatres. I unfortunately was not able to post further than Day 6 because I was studying in the library for finals and someone spilled literally their entire cup of piping hot coffee over my laptop. I hadn’t backed up any of the fics, so the rest of the fics, as well as a lot of other personal stuff like notes and some of my thesis work are gone. I was ridiculously busy talking to my professors and thesis advisors to rectify the situation, which is why the rest of the fics were not uploaded in time. Thankfully the kid who spilled the coffee was both able and willing to pay for my laptop to get fixed and I was given an extension over my finals, so that’s been good.
> 
> I've been working on some of the fics since then because I felt a little bad at having said I was going to publish so many fics and then falling back on that. Unfortunately I had written the fics over the course of several months the last time, which is why I haven't been able to complete them all within the past two weeks. But I was able to finish five. So I hope this makes up for it!
> 
> **General Notes:**
> 
> The title is from a classical piece by Chopin and you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtIW2r1EalM). I just like that song and was thinking about it when I got the idea for this fic. If you're curious, Lang Lang is a real, professional pianist. Now I like listening to them, but a habit of theirs is that when they perform they do a lot of ridiculous facial expressions and movements to kind of "tell" the audience what they're supposed to be feeling with the music. They're not the only pianist who does that, but they do it and take it to a whole other level, and personally I'm not all that fond since it kind of relies on a notion that the audience can't feel or interpret the music for themselves. But that's a matter of taste lol I'm not gonna fight people over Lang Lang. This fic is kind of strange to me because I did write it in Poe's pov and I usually write in Finn's. But I like the way it turned out and I like being able to really focus on an admiration of Finn as a character from the people around him. I dunno, what do y'all think?
> 
> Also I'm very bad at tagging stuff lol. Anybody have any suggestions?
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and feel free to leave kudos, comments, and criticism below!


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